She sits in front of a mirror, brushing her unruly hair. It's almost a case of why bother; it'll look the same again five minutes from now, but it's the principle of the thing. Gillian brushes her hair, one hundred strokes twice a day, and neither she nor her hair are tamed as they are matches alike in stubbornness.
     She has changed, from the poker match, stripping down to a pair of blue and white pajamas with a snowflake motif. Why not? They were cute and on sale. Barefoot, she rises to pad over to the sofa, throwing herself onto it and picking up one of the books containing her 'homework'. "Not exactly what I had in mind for tonight," Gillian says aloud to her book, "but you'll do. That was an interesting game. Too bad the game was secondary to the gossip game..."

     "It is a peaceful day," Mahasti says as she glides within the main chamber. "Praise be for the quiet." She is dressed, as ever, in flowing robes of white. With the weather dipping in temperature, finally, there are merely more layers of the same. Her face is veiled in white with golden coins and jewels tinkling and chiming in her motions. "I have ordered your lunch and Gavin is in a meeting with the other royal seneschals to discuss the transition and schedules. I am going to take this blessed moment for reflection and meditation." She curtseys to you, smiling behind her veil. "Such peace shall be in short supply over the coming days. Have you need of anything before I go? I expect to be back in an hour or so..."

     "Quiet's rare lately," Gillian agrees with a grin. "I'll enjoy it for as long as it lasts. Ooh, lunch." She gets to stay in! In pajamas with a book, and lunch will be brought in to her! "You spoil me terribly, you know that, right?"
     She opens her book with another smile to Mahasti. "No, no, it's cool, I can handle anything that comes up, and let's face it, most people're probably still getting over last night's hangovers. Take care and enjoy!"

     "It is easy to spoil the appreciative," Mahasti says. She bows to you and glides to and out the door, her silken robes moving on the air like angel's wings. And so your chamber is peaceful. Windows are closed so even the ambient noise of high flying birds or the wind moving drapery is shushed.
     It is this way for several minutes...
     The quiet is interrupted by the ticking open of the front door. The gentle sound is echoed by a guard's salute, and when the door closes it is not Gavin, not Mahasti, not Parvati, nor anyone expected. Maybe wished for? Balthazar smiles as he closes the door. "I am interrupting study time," he says warmly.
     He is dressed in a plain white t-shirt, dark indigo denim, and is otherwise barefoot. His hair is curled where sweat-dampened gold has since dried. And though it is chilly outside, wherever he is there is the energy of summer. It lives in his tanned complexion, naturally so, and in his golden eyes.
     Particularly after band practice...secret band practice...
     "Where is everyone?" he wonders curiously as he makes his way to the sofa and to you. "Not that I'm complaining," Balthazar tacks on with a grin. No, it's not disappointing in the slightest to be alone with you.

     She doesn't look up at first; after all, Gavin could've popped in for something, or Mahasti could've forgotten something. Then you speak, and her head pops up. "Balthazar!" Gillian goes pink, scrambling to sit up and close her book. "You probably shouldn't be here."
     Oh, she isn't complaining. It's an observation, and she looks at you, devouring you with her eyes for a minute, then drops the book to stand up and skip over to you, looking for a hug. "Hi," Gillian murmurs with a grin. "I missed you." Even if until you walked in the room, her mind was mostly on other things... "Um, Gavin's in a meeting," she adds distractedly. "Mahasti just went to meditate. Yeah, we're alone for now, anyway. What's up?"

     "I will accept whatever auntie admonition that shall be my fate," he says. smiling as strong arms surround you. You are enveloped by Summer, in honeyed desire and Love and warmth. Balthazar looks to you, to your grin. "I missed you, too. That's why I'm here. You were my first thought on waking. It's just taken me... what... four hours to get here? I do have a problem with tardiness," he teases quietly, grinning as he bends for a kiss.
     Two stars in orbit, you come together with gravity. Even the greeting kiss is galactic. Balthazar looks to you, a hand brushing your face. "I thought we could have lunch, unless you've other plans. I'm not on your schedule," he kisses you again, your mouth and then the side of your neck, "... until tonight."
     He checked. Of course he checked.

     She leans up against you, face still turned up for your kiss after the kiss has parted. "Wow," Gillian murmurs. She licks her lips. "...Lunch sounds good. Actually, it's being delivered, so - good timing. Um, I think I need to sit down." She actually giggles, skin flushed wherever you've kissed it.
     Her hands find themselves buried in your shirt's fabric, even though it isn't all that loose; she uses it to hold herself up, and against you. "I'm not really dressed for seeing you," Gillian says distractedly. "I mean, pajamas. They're not - exactly - a fashion ... mm, statement." She sighs, lips parting, begging another kiss. "Wow. I so am in love with you."

     The cotton is crushable; he is solid. Very solid. In your grasp the tentatively tucked shirt untucks. "You're perfect," he says, dispelling any concerns about fashion with a slight shake of his head and the sudden feel of his lips and the heat of spreading mouths. The kiss is a nova. It spreads into another and another, and he sighs in the shockwave, parting only far enough to murmur. "And I ... you. Your are in my mind, all day," his hands slide to your hips, anchoring there and drawing you to him. "Every day."
     Balthazar closes his eyes as he kisses your eyelids, and then your ear, where he whispers with a smile, "You are so beautiful in your pajamas." As his hands brush your side, his fingers brush a little of your skin. "I am happy this is my present... and my future."
     He leads you to the sofa. You need to sit down and you're not the only one. Balthazar joins you there. A hand brushing your hair. And with that subtle touch he leads your mouth back to his own. "Now I will have another vision to keep me up all night," he grins.
     His mouth suckles upon your lips, enjoying you, not leading you. Offering himself to you to enjoy as thoroughly.

     She laughs a little, pulling herself onto your lap and snuggling in deep. This is what she wants, and she no longer has to fight to convince herself of anything. "Oh, hopefully not all night," Gillian murmurs, nuzzling against your chest. "God, you're so huge! Not that you were small when we met, but still, you exploded, Balthazar!"
     There is another small laugh, and then her mouth is turned up to yours, ready for another kiss. She wants you; in more ways than one, for certain. "You know I'm not going to be as sanguine as my sister was," Gillian teases you. "I'm not going to unpeel from around you. You're stuck with me, Mister Davies, for as long as I can stand. Even if we're not - rushing into things. Sometimes I kind of wish I could, though."

     He laughs, the sound held in his chest. "I was working out ... all day, every day. I had a lot of energy to expend and then... I guess sort of like a red giant," to use a star analogy, "... I expanded." Your lips call him and he answers. One star turns, and the other, the orbits circling closer. His arms, strong and secure, bear you up against him, they hold you there, gently but firmly all the same. "I want to be stuck with you. And I really can't take constant cheerfulness," he chuckles. "I need a little downtime, sometimes, from a good time. Everyone needs rest," comes the low teasing of his voice. Seriously, he looks to you, a hand lifting to cradle your face. "I want you as you are and however you will be, Gillian. You are the love of my life, and the only one i want."
     His strong legs shift beneath you to give you as much lap as you'd like to take for yourself (there's plenty) and his arms snake around you embracing as much as holding. His hands lightly trail at your side as his mouth spreads yours widely and warmly, the kiss as heated as before but languorously slow. Softly between you, he whispers, "And I want you beyond comprehension. And ...yes... sleeping is sometimes difficult." He grins, plucking a kiss from your lips. "I think of.... how you must look curled in bed, how your hair lies across your pillow, if it tangles in your thoughts as you wind your way to sleep. And then I take a shower," he chuckles.
     His mouth parts, sliding against the soft skin of your neck. He suckles at an earlobe and murmurs: "I'm exceptionally clean. But I know how special you want it to be. And I want it to be as well. I tease, but it is true." Balthazar looks to you, his hand brushing back your hair as he rests his head on the sofa's back cushion. "As much as I want to cheat," he grins, "... and peek at this ...wonderful gift, this beautiful woman who loves me, I know you are right. It's exceedingly ... challenging," he chuckles, avoiding all use of the word hard.
     He doesn't need to say it, anyway. You know it...

     Your words move through her and she sighs, wanting nothing more now than being with you. Now. Her arms go around your neck and she nuzzles in against you. "You know the rules," Gillian tells you with mock-tartness, the tartness softened by a breathiness following the kiss. "You don't get me all the time unless and until we're married. So there."
     She leans back despite her best intentions, pillowing herself against your shoulder. "So," Gillian murmurs, "I guess we should get lunch in here and go sit on opposite sides of the table, huh." It's not what she wants. What she wants involves more kissing. Among other things. Her hair is already tousled and alive, her skin flushed; even if it isn't as risen as it is for you, it is obvious.

     Smiling into your kiss, Balthazar looks to you. "Kiss me until it's time." He turns his head as you pillow upon his shoulder. He moves, he guides you gently down to lie tangled (and clothed) with him upon the sofa broad cushioned sofa. He doesn't speak. In silence, his gaze moves over you like the caress of a hand. Lunch can wait. Food isn't as rare a thing as an unguarded moment.
     Your hair spills over the sofa cushion. The sofa squeaks beneath your joined weight, and hips to hips pressed in this small space you embrace naked in want displayed. And all the desire you feel, he feels for you.
     Mouths and tongues collide like stars, and in collusion set chastity aside for intimacy. Strong hands spread at your back, two fingers sliding against bare skin just at the hem. But no further. Just enough to feel how soft, how warm. For you to feel how warm, how strong.

     Her thighs part a little, without her intending to have done that. She squirms, making a small, hungry sound in the back of her throat, her hands coming up to make a mess of your hair. "Time for what?" Gillian manages to mumble; but she's distracted. And her pajama top is starting to ride up exponentially, between her shifting movements and those of your hands.
     She kisses you, and you kiss her; who's to say where one kiss leaves off and the next begins? She pushes forward against you in sudden impatience, and her glasses pop off to fall to the sofa cushions. She doesn't care. Who gives a damn about glasses right now, of all times? There is the returning frisson of heat, of electricity. The room is suddenly as sultry as a greenhouse.

     Fingers slide and hips are cupped. Thighs are parted by the sliding press of a leg. And kissing transforms to firestorms on the surface of the sun. Sighs and squeaks the sounds from the sofa, evidence of the supernova.
     Parvati is all but whistling as she walks in without a knock (she's staying here after all - it's as good as her room) and she comes to a surprised halt, the door sliding out of her grasp to close solidly, as she sees a writhing Gillian, nearly half undressed! And wrangling about on the sofa with Balthazar! Blushing hard, she can't help the nervous giggle. "Um... ahem." And she starts clearing her throat. Loudly.
     There's a rumble of thunder, of displaced air, as the kiss (and the storm of magic and lust bound up in it) is suddenly parted and with a breath of surprise. Jerking up to see who it is, Balthazar groans as he falls back on the sofa. "Hello, Parvati..."
     "Hello, Balthazar," Parvati replies primly. "Shall I let the porter in with the cart? I think your lunch is getting cold..."

     Gillian squeaks. It's not as definite a sound as it might have been under different circumstances; she scrambles back, blushing hotly as she tries to straighten out her pajamas. "Oh my god." She's going to die of blushing. She grabs a pillow and stuffs it over her face while simultaneously all but teleporting to the far end of the couch.

     Sitting up, Balthazar rubs Gillian's back. But he stops short of getting up, even as Gillian suddenly appears on the other end of the sofa. "It's... nice to see you again," Balthazar notes casually. "We were... just about to check on the porter." Yes, that's true. If the porter was under her shirt, between her legs or in her mouth. Balthazar looks to Gillian. I think I'm going to nickname her Coitus Interruptus. As if it were coitus anyway. Well, one can dream (and he will).
     Parvati waves, "Sorry, sorry. I'll be going in the other room now. It's not biggie," she whispers to Gillian. "Um... anyway. Do you want me to open a window?" That's more polite than saying God it's hot in here or My, your boyfriend's jeans are revealing.
     "Ah... sure," Balthazar says, taking up a position on the other far end of the sofa. Hiding a wince (but barely), he casually grabs a pillow.
     "Great," Parvati says. She hurries over to a window, opens it, then goes to the door to let in the porter, all in silence, blushing and smiling.

     Gillian is blushing far, far too hard to even speak. She nods mutely to Parvati, dropping the pillow as she jumps up and scurries to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The tap is opened, and she splashes cool water on her face, trying hurriedly to rearrange her features, her clothes and her hair all in ways which disguise exactly what they've just been up to.
     Well, it's hardly her fault, Gillian defends Parvati. She's still dragging the comb through her hair. But... I didn't want to stop, either.
     She emerges after perhaps five minutes, looking but not feeling more composed. She blinks a few times, looking around and then hurrying back to the couch and sitting on it primly. "So how has your day been, Parvati?"

     His laughter may not be audible, but the warmth of it infuses his voice. I wasn't blaming her, Gillyflower. And... I definitely didn't want to stop. Your kiss is lightning. It strikes me to my heart. And pretty much every other place. Gold eyes glance to the dash of his darling, and Balthazar smiles.
     The porter doesn't remark on anything. He sets out the lunch without a word -- it is Indian today, curries and jasmine rice and a variety of vegetables and naan -- and then departs with his cart.
     "Oh, very productive. Very good. Met with my advisor here and we've plotted my degree plan through residency."
     Balthazar glances down then looks back to Gillian. Want me to leave you girls to chat over naan? "Excellent," Balthazar notes to Parvati with a nod. He is smiling at something unspoken. I'll move as soon as I can without causing a scene. God... I want you. I'm going to be pruny before the day is through.
     Parvati blushes to Balthazar and starts filling up a plate for herself. "You don't mind, do you? I'm starving... I'll leave then if you want. Sorry," she winces to Balthazar. "I know you don't get much time alone."
     "No, no," Balthazar says with a smile to her then a long look to Gillian, "... that's alright. Please do. I just popped by to tell her I love her. I'm not on her schedule until dinner."
     I can't imagine not kissing you again today. How would you like to take a stroll after dinner on the rooftop. Look at the stars.

     I ... think you should eat. Then you can go. Gillian is still blushing. "I'm glad. I met with my advisor briefly, but ... I'm not sure what to make of it. He didn't seem to have very much to say. They're all just waiting for my proof of concept, I think, before they decide what to do with me. I should work on that this afternoon."
     She looks over at you and smiles radiantly. "I guess it's good we've got that trip coming up, huh?" She looks to Parvati. "I have a feeling you'll like Maine, at least for a small dose of it." She laughs. "Well, you'll at least like the lobsters..."
     A stroll sounds wonderful. But I think maybe I should wear a chastity belt...

Posted by rowan at May 07, 2010 11:42 PM